


The Only Ten I See

by kaifordays



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Boss/Employee Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pick-Up Lines, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 14:58:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16746193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaifordays/pseuds/kaifordays
Summary: The one time bad pick-up lines actually work.





	The Only Ten I See

**Author's Note:**

> prompt #88:
> 
> Jongdae stuck in an elevator with Suho. Taking his best friend's advice, he decides to hit on his crush without knowing he's his new boss.

“Psssst, Jongdae!”

Don’t pay him any mind.

“Jongdae!”

Paperwork to fill out, dotted lines to sign, clients to please, calls to be made, work to be done.

“Dae!”

“Ah, why!” Jongdae snaps, resisting the urge to claw down the sheer partition separating his desk and the accountant’s.

Out peeks a head from over the top of the screen. Devilish as always, his best friend offers an amused smirk and signature crescent eyes. There’s a pen tangled in his fingers and a calculator on his workspace, but there is no possible way he’s doing anything particularly productive. The day had been fairly sluggish for the department, leaving him with no substantial priorities and a whole lot of free time. A bored Byun Baekhyun is an annoying Byun Baekhyun.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Nothing, go away,” Jongdae turns back to his spreadsheet and pleads, tone whiny and immature.

If it had been another time or day perhaps he would have been more lenient on him, only because of best friend obligations slash privileges. But yesterday had been just as it is today: slow for accounting. Yesterday there was a tiny bit of room to slack off, a tiny. Today, however, Jongdae’s principal goal is meeting that quarterly sales quota by Friday. He’s more than a ways away with only two days dwindling down to the deadline. Needless to say, both the boss and Baekhyun have been breathing down his neck.

It’s been ten seconds too quiet when Jongdae gambles a courageous glance above him. The drooping of the other’s lips could be considered a force to be reckoned with - if his name was Park Chanyeol from HR. Years of mimicking that exact expression has granted Jongdae immunization, and his facial features scrunch in response. How indignant to act so blatantly childish in the workplace!

“You’re disgusting, you know that? How are you already 27?”

Baekhyun shrugs, unbothered, and blows a raspberry, “Beats me.”

A groan erupts from Jongdae’s throat. He can already feel the ghost of pain from this impending heachache he calls best friend. “You know I’d be more than happy to entertain your antics some other time, in some other setting. The office is no place to play around.”

“Oh, please,” Baekhyun scoffs, “Don’t reprimand me for the same crime you commit every other day. You’re just as bad as I am, only busier.”

If the glare against his throat could get any sharper, Baekhyun would be dead and Jongdae would be charged with decapitation.

“Anyway-”

Mental alarms bombard Jongdae’s conscious when Satan himself opens his accursed mouth. Unwilling to subject himself to the nonsense about to be spewed, he interrupts the other’s speech.

“No, not anyways. I have a pile of work to do, and you have a lonely cushion to sit on,” he hopes the gesticulation to his papers is enough to convince Baekhyun to let him alone. It’s always been too vain to hope.

“ _ Anyways _ ,” the older coughs louder. “Did you notice how the reception desk was empty most of the morning? Before Sehun stepped in?”

This time, Jongdae does sever eye contact in favor of actually keeping his career.

“I don’t want to indulge in your stupid defamation. Jongin probably just overslept or something. Poor guy, you know how he is.”

If Baekhyun’s eyes could roll any further, they would pop out the sockets and be on a surefire route to California. 

“Rumor has it he was fired! And get this, sleeping on the job wasn’t the principal reason.”

Jongdae can’t help the way his ears perk at the promising gossip. There’s hardly any genuine hesitation when it comes to his nosy curiosity. Yes, Jongin is a dear friend. Yes, it’s immoral to talk behind his back. Yes, he is a dedicated employee, but a five-minute break can’t hurt. Clients and respectable ethics forgotten, he further inquires, “Then what was it?”

The glint across his best friend’s pupils in any other situation would have been harmless. Right in this moment, though, it seems he’s struck the jackpot. It’s a bewildering look that compels equal parts terror and excitement. Jongdae can’t withstand that calling.

“Ah, there’s the sidekick I know and love,” he half coos, fingers reaching out to pinch succulent cheeks. “Don’t even deny you’re the sidekick either.”

Frustration builds inside Jongdae and it bursts out in high-pitched squealing, “Baek, spill! That’s all I’m here for!”

“Hm, fine. Like I said, sleeping on the job wasn’t why they let him go,” Baekhyun leans in, close enough for his breathing to fan across the younger’s ear none too subtly. “It was sleeping  _ on the boss _ that did it.”

Then he pulls back, almighty with that smug pout of the lips and crossed arms. As if this is groundbreaking news to the rest of them. Jongin and Kyungsoo have always been a tad suspicious, what with their crippling inability to sufficiently hide their secret affair. Not that anyone with a brain believes Jongin’s flushed denials. His yearning stares when he and Kyungsoo happen to connect sights during meetings are more than telling. It had been becoming sad, in fact. Jongin has the biggest heart composed of pure gold, and he truly deserves everything good in the world (a unanimous, unspoken agreement in the office). On the surface, it seemed as if Kyungsoo didn’t return his affections, appearing aloof to timid advances. Everyone thought otherwise, and, correctly if Baekhyun’s sources are credible.

So realistically speaking, Jongdae is not actually surprised to hear the disappointing lukewarm tea. “Honey, we been knew. You’re just unobservant and frankly, obtuse.”

Baekhyun almost screeches in offense and slaps a hand to his chest with a scandalized gasp. “Appalling! How could you!”

Jongdae challenges him with only a slight quirk of the brow. It rips at his defenses successfully.

“Okay, admittedly I can be a moron at times. But that’s beside the point. Word is, Kyungsoo is gone as well. He’s in his office, but I’ve been  _ observing  _ him clean it out,” he emphasizes, daring Jongdae to take a dig at him. “Even if they couldn’t keep it in their pants, was it necessary to be fired?”

This, Jongdae has the mind to agree with. “Talk about it. Jongin was always reliable, albeit sleep-deprived. Kyungsoo was the best manager I’ve ever worked under, too. He was personable, yet driven and authoritative in all the right ways.”

The two share a collective sigh.

“But we all know the way things work around here. It’s like they’re running a military; their views on those type of relationships are so rigid.”

“On the bright side,” Baekhyun perks, ever optimistic, “at least they can actually go public without the fear of being punished for it. Not only that, but they won’t be stuck in this dusty office selling kitchen tiles for a living. Maybe we should round up all the guys and go out with them. Celebratory dinner on us, what do you think?”

Jongdae’s gearing up his approval when suddenly the words die on his tongue.

His jaw unhinges itself when he abruptly loses footing as his life is flipped inside out and upside down. Jongdae can’t find strength to tear his previously wandering eyes away from that dingy reception desk. For there, in all his angelic glory, stands a man of beauty never known to grace the branch. The Heavenly Gates have been unlocked to bear light upon Earth. Sickness no longer exists in this time, even in the most underdeveloped corners of the world. Jubilee triumphs over all the human race.

Jongdae almost salivates at the mere presence of this man and flagrantly lets his gaze travel all over him. He rakes over his hair first, coiffed back with a sleek natural shine. How he would love to comb through those soft locks! His face puts even A-list celebrities to shame. His eyebrows are bushy and linear, but the subtlest quirk exudes a confidence that only comes with maturity. Framed by straight, full lashes, are  midnight irises cased in gently sloped lids. Jongdae is sure those deep orbs hold the galaxy in them. The slant of his nose is smooth, yet sharp in a way only he must be able to pull off.Trailing down further, his lips. Oh, sinful are those lips. A rosy hue colors them, bitten and kissable and plump. Everything about his visage is a mixture of chiseled and soft, intoxicating and pure, and it dizzies Jongdae’s mentality.

But then a tongue sweeps out across his supple lips, and Jongdae detects a knot growing in his stomach. For the sake of professionalism, he should train his stare elsewhere instead of permitting it to trace that alluring figure lower and lower. His legs are clothed in the richest of navy blue suits. The attire might be cut so it gives hide to the shape of his body, but the fabric stretches over his thighs in the most wicked way. How much would it take to spend a night between those thick thighs, Jongdae longs to experiment. The last of his virtue escapes as finally, finally he hits rock bottom. Literally. Only by his intense ogling does he see the curve of those cheeks. Firm, but round. To touch them, the sweetest of dreams!

Jongdae is melting from inside.

“B-Baekhyun,” his voice trembles.

“Okay, rude! You didn't answer my question, jerk.”

Surely, he should recuperate soon and you know, regain his wits. But if his senses weren’t already tingling in overload, the man’s lips pull apart in the brightest smile. His teeth are in neat, white rows, his eyes curl into slits of sunshine, his cheeks are high. He is beaming. 

Not even a millisecond goes by, but Jongdae’s decision is God.

He needs this man.  _ He must have this man. _

At the reception desk, the man entertains Sehun in conversation. Jongdae, even from the outside, can see how natural their exchange is. The temp appears to speak easily, impressive considering his reputable social awkwardness. His hands motion all his words, and the other’s face depicts an obvious interest in whatever it is they’re discussing. So engaged in their dialogue, Sehun doesn’t register the phone ringing until Minseok annoyedly points it out.

Sehun excuses himself with a finger to put their chat on hold. The man nods and puckers his lips into the tiniest frown. At this the temp chuckles; Jongdae swears he calls him cute.

A twinge pricks his insides. The thought doesn’t sit well in his gut.

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae abruptly stops the other mid-ramble. “Who is that over there?” He bets on his best friend’s scarily abundant and accurate connections to enlighten him. 

The salesman’s heavy trance does not waver as he asks about the person in question. Baekhyun’s left eye twitches, opting to ignore the disrespect and follow Jongdae’s line of sight.

“Oh, wow,” he chokes, taking in all of the man at once. Dewey skin, good proportions, cleanly kept. The epitome of professionalism with a hint of personality.

Jongdae marvels, heart eyes and all, “Wow is right. He’s gorgeous.”

Baekhyun side-eyes his coworker, humming uncertainly. “Not quite what I was implying, though he isn’t too bad on the eyes… I meant, he fits the exact description of your type.”

Jongdae nearly gives himself whiplash, snapping toward the older with a gasp. “I do not have a type!”

“Uh, you do have a type.”

“As if!”

“Tell me what kind of guys you end up dancing with at the bars we frequent,” Baekhyun deadpans, assured he wins this argument.

The more he chews on the thought, the more Jongdae accepts he does indeed have a type: of similar height, chic fashion sense, a slim and fit physique. He doesn’t recall the last time he hooked up with anyone unfulfilling of that characterization. Baekhyun isn’t wrong. Jongdae broods over the realisation, racking his brain for an outlier that never surfaces.

“Okay, fine. Apparently I have a type, and he just so happens to fit it,” he curses, leaving no room for the other’s forthcoming celebration. “There’s no harm in that.”

The other bites down the sly remark he’s already conjured in his head.

“Yeah, sure… In reference to the original question, I have no clue. I haven’t heard anything about him.”

Jongdae hums, suddenly uninterested having heard no promising intel. His eyes immediately refocus on Sehun and the stranger, who have resumed their talk. The man, still, is truly dedicated to conveying his account in full.

“You know it’s rude to stare,” Baekhyun singsongs, tone playful but scolding. “If you keep that up, you’ll freeze them both with your eyes.”

Jongdae pulls a lip between his teeth and bites down his frustration before opting to get back to work.

The next half hour entails more business than he had expected to consummate so close to the deadline. It takes much sweet talk and convincing measures, but of the five calls placed, four come back successful. He truly owes it to that new pottery place down the road, bringing in the jackpot for a huge order of blank ceramic tiles. Although, his success proves to be painstakingly short-lived. Jongdae may have scored a whopping amount in sales, but still not enough to satisfy his mark. 

“I hate my job,” he rasps, flicking through online client contact information. “This is what we have a website for.”

“But that would take from the personal relationship between us and our loyal customers, would it not?” Jongdae’s adopted voice of reason supplies.

He swivels around to meet Yixing standing above him with a coffee in hand.

“Hey, Yixing.”

Wordless, the customer service attendant smiles gently. He extends his generosity further and offers the coffee between the clearance of haphazard papers on Jongdae’s desk.

“To what do I owe this pleasure? It isn’t often you leave your cubicle for long,” the younger asks, aware of the other’s devotion to responsibility and customer well-being.

Yixing supports his weight against the printer beside him, smirking handsomely as he does so.The expression is tainted with mischief. A certain apprehension comes upon Jongdae. As good-natured as Yixing is, his witticism at close friends’ expense is unrivaled. 

At the Christmas function last December Baekhyun had failed to bring a partner and Yixing had a ball of a time. For weeks, Baekhyun boasted his newest conquest of a gorgeous older woman he planned to bring along. For years before then, it was unheard of for ladies’ man Byun Baekhyun to show up to any party alone. So when he trashed himself at the open bar - which, by the way, the company could not afford - everyone more or less guessed what had happened.

Yixing gave him  _ hell _ that night, using every opportunity to crack a joke about his singularity. His smart comments weren’t over-the-line cruel, but they were enough to rouse tear-inducing laughter at Baekhyun’s sulky drunkenness. The accountant later applauded his savagery even through the fog of a hangover.

Jongdae has always seen Yixing’s intentions as good fun to spice up their bleak worklife. He’s been witness to jests at Jongin’s uncanny ability to lose things, pokes at Chanyeol’s boring wardrobe, and more quips on Baekhyun (an easy target, that fool). But in all the years he’s known him, Jongdae has never been on the receiving end of Yixing’s fire.

Some type of nervousness settles in as Yixing licks his lips.

“Earlier I was filtering through some of our reviews online and pinpointing where we can improve,” he slurps from his piping hot cup, the steam framing his face. “But my waist kept me up all night, so I went for some much needed caffeine. I was going to head over here and congratulate you for your positive comments - your customer satisfaction rate is 97%, the way.”

Jongdae pats himself on the back for show, but he’s still wary of what lies up Yixing’s sleeve.

“So here I am, peering from the kitchen to make sure you weren’t bogged down with work. You were  indeed preoccupied, but it was evident that tiles were the last thing on your mind,” he teases, nodding toward the mystery man.

Jongdae can’t help but notice he has made way around to Minseok, speaking to him with full fervor. He must be eloquent in every sense of the word, because Minseok isn’t sporting the pinch in his face that convinces people he’s got a stick up his rear.  The man is just as breathtaking as he was earlier, suit cleanly pressed and hair undefiled.

“Even now you aren’t paying attention to me, hm?” Yixing says coyly.

“Shush, I got enough from Baekhyun already. If you came here to tease me, you’re free to leave now,” Jongdae’s face reddens in embarrassment as he closes his hands over himself.

“Hiding the blush doesn’t mean you’re safe from me.”

Jongdae groans in reply and languidly grabs for a dose of liquid energy. Could this day get any longer?

Yixing pushes off the printer with an revitalized smile. His duality is shocking and terrifying all the same.

“Anyways, I just thought I’d pay you a small visit. Whether or not you appreciated it is out of my control.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hurry on out of here,” Jongdae sighs, throwing his friend a bothered look.

“I hear you,” Yixing laughs and turns toward his own desk. “But try talking to him, you never know what will happen.”

He sips again at his coffee, honing in on Jongdae over the lid. His eyes are narrowed, and a certain glint reflected in them puts Jongdae on edge. But then he blinks and it disappears into thin air, as if the glare had never existed to begin with. It was mysterious, unknown, and yet Yixing appeared… amused? Jongdae huffs indignantly at his friend’s exploitation of his embarrassment.

Before he starts for the back corner, Yixing gives one last comment, “Just some food for thought, you know?”

This time, his grin is genuine and innocent and the epitome of Yixing’s sincere kindness. Anyone else would take a single glance at it and forget all their worries; Jongdae still can’t shake the unusual feeling lodged within him. Had Yixing spiked his coffee? A ridiculous accusation, yes. But he’s never felt so weird in this way before, strangely skeptical but encouraged all at the same time.

Jongdae releases a guttural whine. If he had known taking interest in someone the least bit attractive would be the turn of the century, he never would have gotten out of bed this morning.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The rest of the workday passes without much more of a hitch as Jongdae buries himself in calls, emails, and numbers. The hours wind down to zero, but his nose is so deep in labor that he has no leisure time to even notice it. All he knows is that he has a sales quota to fulfill and that the higher up’s are on a firing streak. Jongdae would very much prefer to keep his job, so it is indeed crunch time.

By the time he cinches his briefcase shut with necessary documents, Yixing is showing himself out the door with a courteous farewell. Only then, looking around, does Jongdae realise he’s the only one left in the office. The messy chaos on his neighbor’s desk tells him Baekhyun dashed out as soon as the clock ticked to six o’clock - probably even earlier than that with his track record.

Jongdae stands for the first time in a while and reaches for the sky. A chain of pops go down his back, dissipating the tension in his hunched shoulders. It’s been a stressful few hours, but at the very least they were productive. Getting paid for overtime sounds like a dream he’ll never have, but it is indeed lovely to hope. He swipes a few minutes on his phone, clearing texts of Baekhyun’s incessant nagging about his tendency to work hard and actually do his job. Finally, he has the mind to leave before security locks him out.

Shoulders tight, Jongdae heaves a sigh before retreating from his cubicle space. On the way out of the office he steals a few mints Jongin kept displayed in a ceramic bowl at the corner of the reception desk. In the next two days everyone will miss the poor receptionist’s endearing laugh/guffaw. Who could ever replace him? Furthermore, who could ever replace his boyfriend? Surely not the hot topic of lunch today, the rumored Mr. Kim. No matter what, no one can make him repeal his bias. 

His surroundings blur into mere shapes and blotches as Jongdae floats about nostalgic thoughts about everyone’s favorite office love affair.

Absentmindedly humming to himself, he trudges forward in pursuit of the dastardly elevator. It is rickety and hazardous and unbelievably ancient, but far more glamorous than tripping down the stairs. 

As he turns the corner, Jongdae’s keys slip from his grasp.

“Mother of Satan, why?” He curses, joints popping when he bends over to retrieve them. Surely, the world has a personal vendetta against him.

Or… maybe not.

He hadn’t noticed before. How could he have not noticed?

Against the wall - beautiful and weary all the same - leans the man from the reception desk. He’s tapping away at his phone, eyebrows scrunched together in the most strange, winsome way. The downward angle at which he looks at his screen doesn’t allow a full view of the man’s features, but Jongdae can spot dark rings forming underneath his eyes. His hair has come undone from its professional structure and now falls in strands brushing over his forehead. The suit has lost its crisp texture from earlier, appearing wrinkled and folded in some corners. It’s obvious the day has been a long one; yet, he retains that irresistible heart-fluttering charm of his.

The setting sun filtering through the hall window is golden, accentuating every perfect ridge of the stranger’s face with a glow. A streak of shadow falls across the ethereal highlights and Jongdae just can’t look away. He is art, a masterpiece.

What to do? On one hand, Jongdae hasn’t the slightest idea the man’s business, occupation, name, age, or purpose of being. He is, in every sense, a stranger. A stranger who just happened to be in the right place at the right time. For Jongdae to openly pursue him is a heinous idea! Surely the beauty would chalk him up a creep after his body. This isn’t entirely wrong, but Jongdae’s persistent visions are mainly domestic and disgustingly romantic. Still, it is unlikely the other would see eye to eye with him.

On the other hand, Yixing’s words have been repeating themselves with fervor in his head; Jongdae is beginning to grow weak against them. The man is everything he has ever desired and much more. Opportune chances like these don’t present themselves but once or twice in a lifetime. If he lets his darling go, who knows what depression will lie ahead of him? He would rather not die lonely. And besides, if he allows this moment to pass without action, it will yield  _ no  _ results instead of good or bad results. The right decision becomes clearer.

A rumbling startles Jongdae from his enlightenment, signaling the elevator’s arrival. 

The man glances toward the machine and then back at his phone. A couple seconds pass before it is powered off and pocketed. He doesn’t seem to have noticed Jongdae. The stranger toes the ground, illustrating mindless doodles as if he wasn’t a grown man in a picturesque suit. The sight almost breaks Jongdae’s composure not to laugh at the childlike innocence.

Soon enough - too soon - the lift slides up to their floor with a whiny creak and opens with another just as bad. A wince comes from the other man at the sound, but he steps in nonetheless. Behind him, Jongdae follows. He knows the day must have really, really been long, because the man opposite him forgets to push the button for his level. A sign, perhaps?

“Base floor?” Jongdae clears his throat and inquires.

It shocks the other out of his wits entirely, not expecting another presence. His eyes widen and blink, as he gapes for an answer. It’s easily one of the most captivating sights Jongdae has ever seen in nearly three decades of life.

The salesman smiles gently, warmly at the scare and speaks simply, “I’ll take that as a yes?”

A hurried nod tousles the man’s hair in the most enticing of ways. He gives an awkwardly endearing grimace that never quite makes it to the intentioned smile. It takes Jongdae’s heart more than a few beats to slow down to its regular pace. Surely this is a work of God, of destiny, of some higher external force, and whoever is it must be begging him to do something, anything with this opportunity. Jongdae always knew fate had it in for him.

It can’t be so hard to grow a pair, man up, and ask a guy out, can it? And if it isn’t that simple, Jongdae has enough mastery of BS to get himself out of a sticky situation. Since his plan isn’t exactly fail-proof, he could use the insurance anyways.

So Jongdae takes a leap of faith hoping he doesn’t plummet off a cliff instead.

“Riddle me this.”

Pretty boy side eyes him through his gloriously long lashes. “Excuse me?”

He falls instantly for that voice. It’s not honey-thick or chocolate-smooth, but a distinctly unique vanilla-light. He figures waking up to that airy sound in his ear every morning couldn’t be too much to ask for, now could it? The salesman almost loses his train of thought swooning over that sweet, sweet melody -  _ “Excuse me?” _ \- but regains his composure.

“Riddle me this,” he repeats, rubbing at his chin for the act. “I’ve worked here about four years now, lived in the area for ten. How have I never run into a beauty like you?”

Jongdae is painstakingly aware that he may appear perverse and slightly greasy to this other man before him. Heck, he might be shooting his shot for someone who doesn’t even dribble the same ball or play on the same court. One thing is for sure though, he would give anything to get this guy’s name - and his number with a bit more persuasion and fortune.

As he’s waiting there for any response, the man remains frozen at his side. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t going to be easy after all.

Jongdae can’t tell if the man is blushing from flattery or discomfort, but he sure hopes it’s the former. He’s beginning to lose the small confidence he barely managed to muster. Jongdae is never going to enjoy morning coffee next to his dream lover or kiss him senseless in the rain. His little flirting act is over and it was painfully short-lived. Baekhyun will laugh at his misery and Yixing will give him the pathetic sympathy eyes no one actually appreciates. All his nightmares are bound to come true, all in proof that good things just don’t happen to boring salesman Kim Jongdae.

He’s on his way to giving an oratory to the other - who is growing increasingly pink - as an explanation for his terrible introduction. Jongdae quickly formulates a thesis in his head and nearly writes a full-length essay on why he is, evidently, scum upon men. But as soon as he opens his mouth, another sentence interrupts his own.

“I just, uh, recently moved here for a new assignment… That’s probably why we have never met before…” Mr. Sweet Voice trails off, twiddling with his fingers.

Jongdae is in awe. That answer doesn’t nearly suffice as a validation of his charm, but it’s definitely not a bad omen. He takes it as a sign to pursue the other further. Jongdae has never felt so empowered or bold in his life and honestly it’s quite lame. But when his prospective soulmate is right there, responsive if nothing, how can he feel any other way?

Perhaps the spike of adrenaline gets to his head. Vaguely, Jongdae recalls Baekhyun’s tell-all in regards to how he scores so many partners; something about pick-up lines and a certain suaveness is all one needs to effectively get a girl. Jongdae hasn’t much long-term experience with either gender, but he’s sure the same concepts apply for men as well. Right? 

“Oh, I see. Well, it’s a good thing I always carry my library card around.”

Confusion pricks at the other’s features. “What? what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Because I’m totally checking you out,” Jongdae follows up, biting his lip to exude some type of sex appeal. And maybe he does so successfully, because the next thing he knows, he is immersed in the ringing of laughter around him. A soft amusement shines in the stranger’s eyes, and again Jongdae finds himself 100%, without a doubt  _ smitten _ with him. Every second reveals another bit of perfection about the other, and Jongdae wills this moment to never end.

Eyes crinkled, the angel beside him playfully cringes in on himself. “That was bad! Really bad.”

Despite his words, the man’s expression adds more fuel to Jongdae’s fire of confidence. At this point, it’s all adrenaline controlling his actions.

“I can be bad, really bad when I want to,” Jongdae breathes with a smoulder. His tone dips seductively with the next line, “Say, how many licks does it take to get to the center of  _ your  _ Tootsie Pop?”

The moment those words leave his mouth, Jongdae regrets all his life decisions. The man goes rigid in his place and the air between them is stagnant with silence. 

The absence of sound, of a reaction kills Jongdae. Embarrassment, self-deprecation, and exasperation flare up with warning sirens in his head (they’re good for nothing, he’s already done the damage!). If he thought his earlier remarks were bad, then this one must be evil by definition.

How could he have thought this was a good idea? Maybe he should move to Belize.

At a loss, Jongdae figures the best thing to do is apologise to the other. He would much rather hole himself up in a room and proceed to die. But more realistically, he is now very vulnerable to charges of harassment - that, admittedly, he does deserve.

“I’m so sorry.”

Barely a reply, the stranger coughs and visibly does his best to avoid contact of any form with the pervert beside him.

“It wasn’t supposed to come out that way. I promise!”

A nervous twitch runs all the way from Jongdae’s eyes to the tips of his fingers. They itch to reassure his companion and correct his impressions with only chaste and pure touches of love. Everything Jongdae is comprised of - his carbon compounds and everything - is screaming at him to just do it. To claim a piece of happiness for once and do it! But alas, social/moral standards exist, so he resists painfully to play it safe.

“I really started off on the wrong foot,” he begins apprehensively.

Jongdae checks the elevator’s floor signal by chance and realises their trip is coming to an end very soon.

He rushes the rest of his words out, hoping they come across representative of what he actually means.

“What I meant to say is that you are beautiful, absolutely breathtaking - and by breathtaking I mean I literally stopped breathing when I saw you with the temp - and speaking of Sehun, did he call you cute - wait, don’t answer, I can’t stand to know - my point is that you are probably everything that has been missing in my life - pathetic, I know - but I have been thinking you might actually complete me - and I am aware we just met not even ten minutes ago, but I would drop my life savings for you immediately if you wanted - and, uh, yeah, I think you are irresistible - and wow, the elevator is opening! Great talk, see you!”

Jongdae exits in a hurry, mortified at his over-confession. At this point, he has effectively ruined any chance at being with the man of his dreams. So, screw it. He doesn’t need company; he doesn’t need a partner; he doesn’t need joy; he doesn’t need warmth; he doesn’t need anything! As he storms from that damned metallic cage, Jongdae decides he doesn’t need love-

“Wait!”

Jongdae thinks he hears that voice calling out to him. Is this event so scarring that he is already having aural hallucinations? Good thing Baekhyun studied psychology a bit. It will undoubtedly come in handy for free therapy after this little stunt.

“Wait, hold on!” He hears closer this time when he unlocks his car door.

A hand closes around his wrist, and Jongdae is  _ electrified. _ Lightning bolts zap through his body at that one bit of skin on skin contact. It felt so unmistakably right! Jongdae whips around to find himself face to face with humanized perfection.

Huffing the smallest bit, Sir Angel captures his eyes and unhinges his jaw to speak.

“I-”

And the most annoying pop melody blasts from Jongdae’s phone speaker at that exact moment.

Jongdae had heard this tune one too many times on the rare occasion he asks Baekhyun for a ride home. He would fruitlessly beg for it to be turned off, or at least turned down. Just a couple days back, his best friend finally gave in and complied. Who could have known the idiot would play such a prank and change the blasted song to his personal ringtone?

Jongdae glares at his mobile, attempting to burn it with heat from his eyes or something nonsensical like that.

“Um, that looks important, so I’ll make this concise,” he clears his throat. “Apology accepted. Uh, hi! My name is Junmyeon. Nice to meet you. Hopefully we can talk more another time. You’re quite interesting.”

They share a handshake of professionalism. Jongdae notes how firm the grip is, despite  _ Junmyeon _ ’s soft initial impression.

Just like that, the brief moment is over and Junmyeon is off toward his own vehicle. Jongdae gapes at his hand while his brain struggles to catch up. Did that just happen? His name is Junmyeon? The small speech was so simple and curt, it almost ailed Jongdae with uncertain interpretation. Does he really think he’s interesting? Was he upset? Was the forgiveness genuine? Will this yield good things for the future? Is Junmyeon always so mysterious and cryptic?

Again, the whiny singer ruins his moment. Curse Baekhyun and his detestable timing.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When Jongdae leaves his apartment the next morning, he is, in one word, tragic.

He couldn’t stop thinking the whole night and tossed and turned about his bed the entire time. He was kept awake contemplating, over-analyzing every single word that was said and action that was committed. Jongdae replayed the whole interaction over and over again as if it were a tape, pausing where need be to deconstruct a change in tone or a quirk of the lips. Every time Junmyeon did something he didn’t understand, Jongdae would mull over it for at least fifteen minutes a piece. As awkward as first meetings go, this one definitely takes the cake.

When he wasn’t so occupied with his seemingly unreal reality Jongdae was distracted by whimsical fantasies of cotton candy kisses atop a ferris wheel at midnight. An unfulfilled desire for the ideal teenage romance struck him all at once, many years too late. Visions of perfect love swam behind his eyes shrouded in soft hues of pinks and yellows.

Needless to say, Jongdae had exactly half an hour of shut-eye (and even then, Junmyeon infiltrated his dreams with an intimate smile and gentle caresses). 

So when Baekhyun screeches at him the moment he trudges into the office, Jongdae wants to commit murder.

“Dae!”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, unwilling to indulge anyone with more energy than a rock in conversation. “How are you so hyper already? What did you do? Chug a Pixie-Stick? Chill out, please.”

“Dae, Dae, Dae! I love you so much! I-I never meant for this to happen!”

“Shut up and leave me alone. I beg you,” he chooses to ignore the slight ominous shiver that runs down his spine at Baekhyun’s foreboding words. For his sanity, he slumps past the other and plops into his swivel chair.

Sensing the foul mood Jongdae is in, Baekhyun scoots around to his own desk apprehensively.

Jongdae is suspicious. Especially considering how quickly Baekhyun drops his case. But Jongdae has been friends with the other long enough to not worry about giving a care. The dimwit is notorious for overreacting about minor issues.

As soon as he gets logged on to the company’s website, Sehun calls him over to the reception desk. Jongdae thinks nothing of it and reluctantly leaves the comfort of his cushioned seat. He catches Baekhyun’s eyes and notices a hint of- is that fear? Too tired for this, Jongdae mentally waves it off.

Sehun is crunching on an apple when he reaches the counter. He looks so young and put together that Jongdae almost feels jealous. No wonder Junmyeon seemed to like him so much yesterday.

“What is it?” He asks none too politely.

“The new manager wants to speak with you in his office.”

At this, Jongdae’s eyes widen. He had forgotten about the newcomer. What could he be called in for? Suddenly he’s more awake than before.

“Me?”

Sehun the Temp shrugs in nonchalance and nods toward the compartmentalized office in the back. Then, without another care, he redirects himself back to his desktop computer, adjusting the slim spectacles on his perfect face.

Jongdae resists the temptation to scoff - what a way to treat your superiors - and starts to the corner room. He’s not sure why he is being called in. Why him and no one else? Does this have anything to do with Baekhyun’s unease? What does Baekhyun know?

Dread lingers in his psyche when Jongdae knocks and a gruff voice says, “Come in.”

Jongdae hesitantly enters with his head down. He knows it’s unprofessional, but frankly, he’s kinda terrified and extremely unsure.

“I would say good morning, but it doesn’t seem like an… accurate statement.”

Wait. Jongdae knows this voice.

He’s spent the last six hours memorizing it’s various sounds, committing them to a treasured safe in his heart.

When he peeks up at the other before him, Jongdae gapes.

It can’t be.

“J-J-Junmyeon!” He sputters out, flabbergasted.

The person standing behind the desk cannot be Junmyeon. Gone is the sweet, innocent dear from yesterday, and in is a suave, smirking man. How is such duality humanly possible? Their roles reversed, Junmyeon is the one whose gaze locks onto Jongdae. It trails over the bags of his eyes, the sag in his shoulders, and the gray of his complexion. If only he looked half as decent as Junmyeon did yesterday - and today, don’t get him wrong. The other is dashing as ever and Jongdae can’t peel his eyes off the curve of his body.

“Take a picture. It will last longer,” Junmyeon chuckles and straightens out his nameplate.

Kim Junmyeon.

… Oh, balls.

Jongdae’s heart flips on a trampoline as it beats out his chest. “Wait, wait, wait, wait. Y-You’re the new manager? Manager Kim?”

In the span of just two minutes, Jongdae has once again succeeded in making a dunce of himself in front of his soulmate. He undergoes an existential crisis while all the tiny workers in his brain burn in chaotic flames.

What to do? He flirted with his boss! He made sexual innuendos to flirt with his boss! Oh, wow. Maybe he really should up and move. Belize is much too close now. Evacuation to Antarctica sounds a ton more appealing. Perhaps he should be safe and change his name and delete his previous identity off the face of the entire earth.

Jongdae has never wanted to throw himself off a building more than in that moment.

“Formally, yes. I am the new regional manager, Kim Junmyeon.”

He pauses dramatically and Jongdae almost keels over in anticipation at what Honey Bun will say next. He is more than confused, and some part of him wishes he never got out of bed this morning.

Jongdae’s heart pounds rapidly when Junmyeon maneuvers himself towards Jongdae’s spot by the door. He takes a small steps, getting teasingly closer with each one. Jongdae wonders if the A/C is broken because, wow! It is getting hot in here.

Suddenly, they are less than a foot apart and Jongdae can feel every breath Junmyeon takes against his skin. If he stumbled ever so slightly, his lips would be right against Junmyeon’s and they would be sharing a kiss. But that isn’t quite how life works.

Junmyeon slips something square into his hand. A folded piece of paper? His face gets very close all of a sudden, and he leans in to whisper hotly in Jongdae’s ear.

“ _ But you can call me anytime _ .”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ epilogue: _

_ Later on, Yixing eyes him knowingly. It annoys Jongdae to his wit’s end. _

_ “What?” _

_ “I don’t know if I should be criticizing or congratulating you.” _

_ “What do you mean?” _

_ “Junmyeon told me all about yesterday.” _

_ Jongdae almost drops his fork. _

_ “He talked to you? Wait, you know him?” _

_ “Oh, please. You think you could get a man all on your own? Baekhyun’s filthy lines never actually work.” _

_ His laugh is light and contrasts the tease of his words. Suddenly Jongdae is terrified. _

_ “I may or may not have told him about you before leaving yesterday. Why else do you think he was still here so late?” _

_ Jongdae groans, but he’s still so confused. _

_ “How?” _

_ “How do I know him? You know I’m friends with Kris Wu, right? Chinese branch manager? Yeah, well he said Junmyeon asked for a raise. Instead he got promoted and transferred! The world works in crazy ways, doesn’t it?” And with a clap on his back, Yixing leaves Jongdae in stunned silence. _

_ Yes indeed. The world does work in crazy ways. _

  
  
  
  


_ Months later, the company finally gets over their dated ways when the ancient CEO dies. His replacement finally brings the standards up to present-day. They renovate the offices, modernize the online store, and most importantly update some of the policies being enforced. _

_ After a while of sneaking around the anti-fraternization rules (with Yixing and Baekhyun’s help, of course!) signing a “love contract” was nothing. _

_ Junmyeon and Jongdae, crazy as crazy gets, actually work out. _

_ ((And no one has to move to Antarctica!)) _

 

 

_ (((Somewhere else, Jongin pouts that he had to lose his job for the business to finally revise their old-fashioned ways. Luckily with cuddles and love, Kyungsoo doesn’t let him stay grumbly for long.))) _

**Author's Note:**

> to readers:  
> thank you for reading!! this was my first suchen fic fest, and i must say. it has been a blast writing these two! they're adorable :)) i have huge heart eyes for them both!
> 
> to prompter:  
> thank you for this wonderful prompt! it was so much fun to write such embarrassing moments for jongdae lol. i hope i have done your wants justice! thanks for inspiring this!!!!
> 
> notes:  
> wow guys this has been swell. just swell! let me tell you. i started off signed up for three fest, but i only ended up sticking to this one. and i am glad i did! this was so much fun to write :) can't wait to read all the others!


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